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The Blighted Arch
"In all my travels, I have seen many strange and wondrous things, from the ruined Cathedral of Everos in Vorvathum, to the remains of Nados on the Acheos River. But, the most terrifying had to have been what I call The Blighted Arch. Far to the north I went, in my pursuit of legends and old, forgotten knowledge. I travelled with a caravan of prospectors and settlers, who hoped to find their fortunes in the untapped mountains near the Roof of the World. From them, I gathered their legends and stories, and told some of my own in return. A good group of men and women they were; they did not deserve the fate they received in the frozen north. We arrived at the foot of the Virall Mountains, which ring the Roof, and set up a camp. Within days, the camp was a bustling hive of activity, with small groups of people arriving almost daily. By the end of the month, we had a thriving community of some one-hundred souls. The settlers named their little community Frostfall, after the snow; most had never seen it before and were fascinated by the stuff. I gave them maybe a year before they left, cold and tired and desiring their warmer climates. The first months went by slowly and without much excitement. A few simple farms were established, houses built, animals raised. Mines were dug into the hills, and the first reports of gold and other valuable ore came rippling through the village. Thereafter, nearly every day, people were working away day and night in the mines, with only a few handful remaining in the town. These few were the elderly and young, left to run shops and farms that the more hale men and women wouldn't. About seven months into the year, however, something happened. A trio of men reported breaking into a series of tunnels that seemed to lead deep into the mountains. Every day after that, a trio would go into the tunnels and vanish. At first it was hailed a as tragedy, but after a week, it was normal. Two weeks later and the town was half-gone. At that point, I volunteered to go into the tunnels and see what the disturbance was, and why nobody seemed to be more concerned that half the town was now gone. I was... not prepared for what I found in those dark tunnels. I went in-between my compatriots, one John Stern and one Edmund Fitzgerald. Deep, deep into the mountains we walked, our torch the only light, for what seemed like hours. My friends spoke not at all, and any attempts at conversation were met with silence. After a time, I began to daydream, mind wandering as it usually does; when I came back to, I realized I was alone. I looked around me, and called out, but was greeted only with returning echoes. I pondered going back, but I just had to know what was causing the disappearances. The pull of knowledge was a strong one, and so I set off deeper into the tunnels. Hours I walked, alone, the only sound guiding me the dripping of water and, as I neared what I assumed was my end, a faint whispering. My torch nearly dead, I hurried towards the sound; the tunnel lightened as I approached. My heart skipped at the thought of an exit, but quickly fell and turned to horror as I entered the cavern. Directly in front of me stood a great arch, made of a white material. At least fifty feet tall, it seemed to glow from within with a sickly, unnatural light. As I neared it, a feeling of dread overwhelmed my senses; I pressed on, however, as I needed to know. The white material, to my horror, was bone; skulls, femurs, ribs, all fused together into a great column of ivory. And, scattered all around the bases, were the bodies of the villagers. Only simple sacks left, their bodies removed of every bone, presumably added to this horrifying edifice. The whispers grew louder, telling of great secrets, knowledge for the ages. All I had to do was lay down and accept the Arch. ...I ran. I ran as fast as I could from that unholy place. The whispers seemed to grow to roars as I fled, echoing through the tunnels, maddening in their anger and hatred. I know not how long I was in those unhallowed tunnels, but I finally found the exit. I burst from the mines, and made straight for Frostfall. The village was eerily quiet as I stole a horse, and rode back south. I've been running ever since, running from that arch, and those people I abandoned. But the worst of it is, sometimes, late at night, when there is no other noise... ...I hear the whispers. And I know it'll find me one day." ''-Excerpt from "Odric St James: An Autobiography," unpublished'' [[Roof of the World], Virall Mountains]